


Tenderspark

by Hgrade



Series: Sentinel Prime Goes to Hell [5]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alt Mode Fondling, Blackmail, Bondage, Emotional Abuse, Heavy Angst, Impregnation, M/M, Mourning, Non-Human Genitalia, Public Humiliation, hurt without comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:17:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8434837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hgrade/pseuds/Hgrade
Summary: Happy Halloween!Continued from Failed Reunion.Sentinel had hoped he would never have to deal with this piece of scrap again.





	1. The Chase

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place around Where Is Thy Sting and Five Servos of Doom. Completely contradicts canon, along with making Lockdown a megacreep.
> 
> Don't read this story, it's horrible. Go take a walk, enjoy wherever it is you live and life instead of reading this horror.

A sense of icy dread smacks Sentinel in the faceplate. He goes over his mental list of numbers. It's a few off, but he has the sickening sensation in his processor. The bounty hunter is near Earth, or in its orbit. Sentinel attempts to stifle his panic. They're here to find the escaped convict, Waspinator.

He wasn't supposed to be here, why in frag's sake is Lockdown near Earth. Thankfully nobody's in the room to watch Sentinel slowly slump in his seat, then wheel around pathetically. The blue bot cradles his faceplate and counts the klicks. Even thinking about Lockdown makes his protoform shiver beneath his armor, not in a good way. His teeth clack from the force and he forces himself to stop, gritting them together.

Sentinel Prime did not sacrifice every bit of his life clawing up the ranks just to give up here. It's just a number, just a number it's not like Lockdown was here. That number could be any bot's. Little did he know that Prime's report on several incidents hasn't been released to the Elite Guard. Otherwise Sentinel would of realized how wrong that line of thinking was or how much information has been clogged up due to a certain bot abandoning his post in the last cycle or so. 

|||

They catch sight of the wayward Waspinator while on Earth. They capture Waspinator, and of course many things happen after that including the Magus being assaulted. Sentinel is on guard and sharp, but not sure of the accusation that Longarm is a 'con until they get word of what happened to Ultra. The bot has always struck him as being very, very odd. A Decepticon obsessed weirdo, the kind that probably has a blowup Megatron doll in his belongings. Which brings him back to this ship full of losers.

Both twins haven't shut their intake holes since they landed, "Now, now", Sentinel's grown irate with his duties towards the exuberant split sparks. They've clung to him like old oil and it's getting to be too much. "What we need to do is cover more ground, locate the Decepticons and bring them to justice."

"Sure thing. You two are going with Sentinel?" Jazz asks the twins, slag eating grin appearing on his faceplate.

Sentinel's optics narrow at the wiseaft, "No, we all go on our own. Stick to a" he pauses and checks the map for the city's radius. "twenty mile radius. If any of us locates a 'con, alert everyone on our channel. Understood? Do not engage without backup." Jazz looks like he heard and does not care, the twins grin wider than ever. Sentinel has no doubt they'lll go after anyone they spot first and then come limping home. 

"Yes sir." , and the cyber ninja turns expectantly to the twins.

"Aye-Aye Sentinel commander!" says one of the two, Sentinel doesn't care. He opens the doorway and they all exit the ship. The airborne pair take off to the south. Jazz lingers to say a quick goodbye as well as inform what direction he'll be returning from. Just in case they need to group up faster than the twins. 

Sentinel goes to the west, towards the massive lake and the streets surrounding it. The trip is short and quiet. Things go peacefully, and when it's finally mid-afternoon he gets trapped in traffic so fast. His axel aches from sitting in grid lock. The twins finish their quadrant of the city and are permitted to go wherever they like so long as they do not interfere with the locals.

|||

 

When the Prime's finally driving around darkened streets littered with rain puddles, it's almost dusk. The pinging begins, initially he thinks it's just Jazz. No call comes with it, unusual for the ninja. He calls the bot and asks what he wants, only to receive a confused "What are you talking about? I'm still at the museum." 

"Guess it must be interference, continue your stakeout." 

Jazz shakes his head at the tone, continuing to eavesdrop on people and slowly creep away from parking police.

His spark itches like mad and heaves in a great sudden flare of fear. Sentinel spots the vehicle after ending his comn, it looks out of place among the vibrant and sometimes muted hues of cars. It almost hurts to keep moving but he makes a turn. About a block behind the black and green car makes the same turn. One by one his thoughts begin to zero down to the road and any route he can make. Luckily for humans, Sentinel obeys the traffic laws and goes the speed limits. Lockdown, he's sure of it now.

Passing by a bright shield-shaped sign, he remembers a stray comment about the highways on Earth. They are the way out, with lots of unused road he could take to leave the city entirely. He wants to catch Lockdown alone. The blue bot doesn't know that Lockdown wants to catch Sentinel alone as well. The bounty hunter doesn't care about humans seeing them, but the chase excites him with whatever little tricks the Autobot may have. Of course, eventually he gets bored with the running. He cuts off Sentinel and the Autobot makes a panicked left turn.

It becomes very, very clear that the Autobot has no idea where he's going. Eventually the chase ends in some dark alleyway Lockdown recognizes as being close to his ship. It's a nice stroke of luck, that's for sure. Sentinel hums, condensation dripping off the back of his bumper. Lockdown shifts into his main form and grins stickily. "What a nice frame." his steps are loud, even over the panicked exhaust from the smaller bot. "I wasn't expecting to see you here, of all planets." the side mirrors sag and his wheels twitch in a manner unbecoming of any primitive Earth machine. The vehicle freezes when Lockdown puts his servo on the tailgate and squeezes himself up against the corner of the bed. "Not going to respond?"

After a moment of lingering, Lockdown steps back. Sentinel inwardly cringes and shifts into his robot mode. The Autobot crosses his arms, energon bleeding his face into a bright pink color. "Frag off." says his mouth but Lockdown doesn't look like he's paying attention.

"I think this is an upgrade, your blocks always did look a bit clunky." 

A look of displeasure blossoms over Sentinel's face, offended by the familiarity. "Why are you here?"

"Well, a certain bot told me Megatron's in the neighborhood." he enjoys the almost imperceptible change in Sentinel's expression. If the guardsman is afraid of a regular bounty hunter, he's probably paralyzed by the thought of Megatron. "You know he's about as tall as your ship and eats protoforms for breakfast?" 

"He does not." bites the Autobot.

"Want to talk about Megatron in my bridge?" and Lockdown is in Sentinel's personal space. Heat rolls off of the blue bot's frame.

"No."

"No?" the 'con grins, sliding his arms around Sentinel's chest delicately. "What would I have to say to make you say yes?"

"It's impossible."

"Oh, believe me. I know a few ways to make you change your mind."


	2. The Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains rape, forced oral, blackmail, bondage, bloody gunk, gross stuff, gross misuse of cleaning equipment, and your favorite: ABSOLUTE SUFFERING
> 
> Hgrade standard extremely fucked up scenario that'll fuck with you mentally, this is your last warning to stop reading.

The trip is short, quick. Lockdown wonders if Sentinel can even remember his way back to the other Autobots, his confusion with the city's layout is tangible. The ship is concealed, once again Sentinel finds himself crossing that darkened threshold. 

"I'm going to leave if you're wasting my time."

"Really?"

"I think you should look at this before denying any of my offers." Lockdown turns and the wall screen lights up, the video buffers. The first moment of the reel fades in as his optics adjust to the incandescence.

Sentinel feels his energon go ice cold as he recognizes the voices on the screen. The angle is from a high up camera, it has a clear view of them together. "T-th that's-" his worried optics flick to the 'con beside him, the cheerful, grin makes his spark flutter with a sharp pain. 

Just a few miles away, Jazz realizes that he hasn't seen Sentinel's energon signature move in a while. After checking his sensors, he can't even see it anymore. The cyberninja hopes the bigger 'bot has only wandered out of the city. 

Lockdown's servo steers the blue 'bot close, "Now, are you going to behave for me?"

The grimace says no, but his mouth says "Yes." his optics are narrowed, something like anger and fear speckled in their glow.

"You're going to do exactly what I say, right?"

"Yes." Sentinel manages to not shudder, steeling himself as the 'con begins to circle him.

He eyes the smaller bot, noting the flush. Anger perhaps, or maybe it's fear causing it. "I'm going to frag you however I want. For as long as I want. Got that?"

"Yes."

"You're really cute when you're scared." rumbles the dark bot. "Don't worry, I'll pay you back. I'll call you and let you know when I have it okay. You'll have to go where I ask, alright?"

"Right." 

Lockdown's interface panels slide open, he grins. "I've even gotten an upgrade." his eyebrows wiggle and Sentinel feels himself cringe. "Just. For. You." the Autobot's eyes are none the less drawn to the movement of Lockdown's servos. He doesn't mean to look at it. The engorged cord looks fundamentally wrong to Sentinel. His tank lurches at the glittering length, it's probably a universal fit. Lockdown can cause serious internal damage with a synthetic piece of junk like that. The mini-connectors are all shiny cybertronium weave instead of the normal matte casing created by protoforms.

Sentinel feels a servo on his shoulder and he reluctantly sinks down to one knee, then the other. His mouth squeezes into a thin line and Lockdown pulls his face in. "Primus." The 'con smiles and grabs one audial fin, the metal buckles. Sudden, sharp pain appears on Sentinel's face. Sentinel leans forward, disgusted by the fully assembled cord. 

It's a glossy weave, it feels wrong against his face and the pulse running through it is unnatural. Sentinel gags when Lockdown prods at his lips with the edge of it. "Aw, 'cmon." the 'con mumbles too soft.

Sentinel gives in, not wanting any more damage done. The thing tastes awfully like some silicone he had dumped in his 'cube as a prank a long, long time ago. He doesn’t see the appeal at all, not even for Lockdown. Something tells him he's going to get dragged in deeper, even the sound of Lockdown's breathing grows heady. The blue bot tries very hard to not think, Lockdown guides his face. The texture against his mouth is foreign, the warmth causing a violent rejection in his tank as it's pressed between his lips.

The Autobot's mouth feels hot and wet, his breathing is fast and sharp. Lockdown keeps petting the shorter bot's helm and audial with slow, languid touches. Sentinel's mind rejects every bit of the act, wanting to shut out the taste of the weird white, unnatural fluid leaking from it. He shudders when Lockdown eases him back, breathing labored from the slight suffocation. "You got it all in." the proudness in his voice makes Sentinel look away fast. "Get up." 

Sentinel struggles, feeling heavier than ever before. His tank feels like it's been poisoned, the 'con leads Sentinel to one of the exam tables. The guard has the itching feeling that it's more of a torture room than an exam room. The bot looks from the furniture piece to Lockdown, who nods once. Grimacing, Sentinel leans over the chilly surface. Almost immediately a servo's pressing against the shut panel of his interface array. The feeling itself sends tingles up the nodes pressed against it, but Sentinel's mind darkens at the threat. Just like that, Lockdown leans over and touches something. The blue bot freezes at the click the button makes, and the solid clink of the metal restraint sliding over his waist. 

The black and green bot laughs. "Come on," the con sounds horrifically casual "open up." He leans forward "you don't want to go out with a broken panel do you? What will you tell them? Are you going to let them know you're fragging me for a bounty? That I'm your new spark friend?" hands rub lovingly across Sentinel's cool hips. "You know they won't believe you if you say you were raped. Right? You're a big bot, why wouldn't you just fight back?"

"Please don't." oily lubricant drips down Sentinel's faceplate "Stop." the bluebot begs himself to not beg. A servo slithers around Sentinel's neck and squeezes tightly. The guard wouldn't dream of fighting back, the restraint has quelled any thought of escape. Lockdown delicately massages the layered mesh on the Autobot's neck for a minute, gradually increasing pressure.

"O pen" sounds out the Decepticon. "Just play along a little for me" that line earns a hoarse growl from the smaller bot. "okay. I'm getting tired of this slag." the bigger bot leans forward, mouth near Sentinel's audial receptors. "You know" he says it very softly, mouth almost pressing against the dial. "I do have a little something recorded" the hand pets Sentinel absent-mindedly. "of your boss." a thoughtful little noise comes from the 'con "I think earlier you where sucking my rod pretty good. Do you think one of your Autobot buddies on Earth would like to watch that? Or do you think I should send them the part where I'm fucking you better?"

An immense shudder rattles through the frame beneath, Sentinel bites his lip -- not too hard though. He tries to relax, letting out a desperate sound of frustration. Tumultuously he picks at the spaghetti output of his HUDS. Internal commands accept the orderly input and forces the interface panel open with a clinical snap. Heat presses into the puffy slit, the dull bronze of Lockdown's fingers sinking in even as Sentinel pulls away.

There's nowhere for the Autobot to go but about an inch forward. The bot's legs quiver as Lockdown begins fingering him, calipers tightened in an attempt to squeeze out the unwanted digits. It's an almost pleasant sensation, but Sentinel has never found it anything but alien and disturbing. Perhaps he was programmed wrong, or maybe he just hates 'cons.

He doesn't miss them when they're gone, Lockdown presses his weight on Sentinel. "Take a vent sweetie, you're going to pass out if you don't." the Autobot resumes breathing, color returning to his faceplate. "That's a good boy." mumbled close to an audial. Lockdown's member slides in, Sentinel registers the slim tip. He really disliked how long it was in his throat, his walls cling and squeeze snug around it. Shuddering as the older bot begins to move, jabbing more than fragging. Coolant drips down his protoform and the slick lubricant mixes with the energon inside of Sentinel. 

Lockdown's stokes are hard and painful. Sentinel keeps trying to think of anything but the pain. The erratic grip on his throat is too much, and the scraping hook on the table keeps at it the entire time. Far too long in, it really starts to hurt, and the Autobot is left gasping and writhing from the pain. "Fragging stop it." he bucks and Lockdown laughs in his ear delicately. 

"Alright, alright." the 'con slows down. It feels like an eternity has passed when Lockdown finally pulls out, grinning his shitty grin and patting Sentinel's side. The euphoric look makes Sentinel sick to his hydraulic lines. "You did pretty good." Lockdown leans forward. "Hey. I have your gift in the back if you still want it." he chuckles.

"What?"

"The 'con I mentioned. I found him trying to get into my ship." Lockdown wraps his arms around the smaller 'bot. "He's all yours."

 

|||

 

Last time there had been transfluid and lots of it but Sentinel can't feel anything as he speeds back into downtown Detroit, mega cycles late. Sure, there's energon in his bruised vault. There's lubricant in stray flecks along his legs, but not for long. When he's in his other mode there's no legs, no interface. There's no pain and nothing to remind him that he's been fragged by some foul spawn of Unicron. Overhead the sky splits open with dark clouds, the downpour washes nearly everything away.

The ship is quiet on the outside. Sentinel slips in, ill gains carried along. He leads the bigger bot to one of the holding cells, and locks them in. The mouth plate had been Lockdown's idea too. The Autobot doesn't want to think about Lockdown, clearing his mind as he returns to the normal routine. That's when the sound of the heavy plate doors opening reach him. The sparksplit pair comes in, grinning.

"Oh! Our dear commander caught a Decepticon!?"

"Even before Jazz, I cannot believe this!"

"You should of told us you were out on a hunt! We could of helped!"

Their processor chips had been melted and badly damaged by their industrial accident. Though, according to them they have always been as rambunctious and idiotic as they stand beside him. "Ha-ha" he rubs his face, exhaustion lingering in his joints, making them sag. "actually, I'm tired of Decepticon hunting for the day. I should really recharge." Primus be damned his interface array feels like someone poured battery acid on it. Sentinel takes a long, hard look at the two and fails to remember which is Jetfire and which is not-Jetfire. He stops himself from calling either of them by name. "Don't break anything while I'm gone."

"Aye-aye" one says, saluting. His brother nods and runs to the controls. They've both bought it, they must of. Neither looks concerned with the small scuff marks on Sentinel and they aren't sharp enough to realize that the Decepticon is untouched.

Primus must of blessed him to keep Jazz from being onboard the ship when he really needed that aft gone. All he craves comes to him, the halls are empty, quiet, so alone, cold, his room is empty. He didn't realize how claustrophobic he had become from having the con on his back. The Autobot shivers and clenches his teeth at the thought.

Sentinel opens his interface panel, exposing his abused lips the moment he's locked the door. Even looking to survey the damage makes his processor quake with fear. Lockdown had been rougher than it felt at the time, maybe running so hard on fear had wiped away the pain at the time. Why did this happen to him. His fingers tremble as he realizes the air current itself is causing a faint ache. Why did this happen to him, tears well up in his optics again. He bites his bottom lip bitterly and squeezes his servos together tightly. 

The bot rushes to his wash rack and runs it on scalding. He puts a servo against the wall and bites his tongue as he shoves several fingers into his exposed lips. Still no transfluid. No nanites. Just the delicate pattern of light pink energon from his array, mixed in with the gunky silicon based lubricant that Lockdown uses that he'll never forget. 

Servos grope the wall to steady him better. He grabs the nozzle and turns it, unscrewing it from its stand against the wall. He pulls it against his chest for a long moment, feeling his spark lurch at the thought of putting anything inside of his latch again. Sentinel knows he has to, anything to get rid of those traces of the 'con. Nothing comes out with the fluid.

Horror, fear, disgust make him slide to the floor and curl up under the spray.

After a megacycle he gets the urge to look again. The part of him that could think considers the fact that Lockdown had heavily modified his array and applies it to transfluid. If Lockdown came he'd try to get him knocked up again. Sentinel scrubs his optics and rises, looking around his room with a cautious gaze. He grips the casing intended for cleaning pipes and peels the foil coating it. Never used, and it's still factory fresh. The Autobot rolls the long rod slowly, praying to Primus that he doesn't skewer himself to death. 

The delicate balancing act begins, he realizes as he puts the poll-like tool on the floor. He could possibly skewer himself to death. That sounds incredibly appealing to Sentinel for about five nanoklicks. The bot takes a deep breath and lowers himself onto the silvery tube. It hurts only when it hits his chamber wall, Sentinel tries to avoid that. He rolls his hips forward in a nearly lewd way. Sentinel hates himself for the slightest tinge of pleasure from the cold metal rod. The instrument feels stuck against something, he doesn't know what. Sentinel stands and the cleaning tool hangs out of his body. The sight must be absurd, he doesn't stop the kneejerk reaction to yank it out. For a moment there is only searing pain, he wonders if he's pulled out something important. Then in the next comes the metal strip and a thick, congealed glob of almost solid transfluid. 

He lifts his hips and thanks anyone up there for not causing any more damage. Immediately he takes it back, as watery transfluid slides out of his channel and down the drain. The cleaning solution burns in the deeper nicks in his protoform. The gunky glob is in pieces on the rod, he doesn't like the look of it.

A million programs and inquiries run through his processor before he can stop himself. He sinks to the bottom of the cleaning area.

At least here, he's safe. 

For now.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally titled "Five Nights of Terror" but this one is catchier.


End file.
